Letters
by ZombieInk
Summary: When Harry receives a call for help in a letter from a stranger, he wants to assist in any way he can. What would he do if this girl was his own child?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling owns everything Harry Potter-related. And I'm not J.K. Rowling.

* * *

_July 23  
_  
_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,_

_Hello. I know you probably don't have any idea who I am. So let me introduce myself. My name is Amelia. I am fifteen years old. And I am in grave danger._

_Believe me; I would not be bothering you if I thought anyone else could help me. But I fear that you are the only one who can._

_I apologize that I cannot give further details about myself or my situation. I am too afraid that this letter will fall into the wrong hands. The Ministry doesn't intercept any owls anymore, but you can never be too careful. I just don't know who to trust anymore._

_If you care to, please meet me at the following address tomorrow. I know you must be a very busy man, and again, I apologize if you feel I am wasting your time. But I really do need your help. _

_Please, Mr. Potter. You are my only hope._

_Sincerely, _  
_A.T. _

Harry set the letter down on his desk, rubbing his eyes underneath his round glasses. It had been a long day already, and this on top of it all added to the stress.

A small squawking noise came from the open window in front of him. Looking up, he saw the large grey owl perched on the sill. He had almost forgotten about him. Harry absentmindedly fished a silver coin out from his pocket and pushed it into the small pouch on the owl's leg, who clicked his beak once and took off again.

Harry sighed and picked up the letter again. _...please meet me at the following address, _it read. Next to that sentence, an arrow was drawn pointing at the side of the page, telling him to flip the parchment over. On the back of the paper, it said this in a messy scrawl, contrasting the small, neat writing on the front:

_3682 Rockworth Road  
__P.S.: you can't miss it._

Harry raised his eyebrow at this. What in the world...? Not only was it an incomplete address, but what did it mean "he can't miss it?" He threw the letter down on the desk again, not knowing what to do. Then there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Harry called softly.

The doorknob turned and the door opened, revealing his wife, Ginny. She was clutching a large cup of tea.

"I brought you some tea, dear," she said sweetly, walking across the room to him, her heels clacking against the hard floor.

"Oh, thank you," Harry said, turning in his seat. She handed him the cup. As he took a sip, she said, "How was your day?"

"It was...fine," he replied, setting the tea on the desk.

"Harry, I have known you for almost thirty years. I know when you're lying," Ginny said, pulling up a nearby chair close to her husband. "So what's wrong? You sound stressed."

He sighed again. "Here, see for yourself." He picked up the letter and handed it to her.

As she read, he stared back out the window again. Somewhere out there, there was a girl who needed his help. Or maybe it was just a prank. He had gotten several prank letters in the past similar to this one. Fake calls for help, phony "important people" wanting to have lunch... the list goes on. However, this particular letter sounded genuine.

"Oh, dear," said Ginny, finishing reading. Harry turned to face her.

"Hm," he said, nodding. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well, this isn't my decision, dear," she said. "But I'm sure you'll make the right choice, whatever you need to do."

He looked at her skeptically. "Ginny, I have known you for almost thirty years, so I know you _always _have input on _everything." _

She laughed. "You see right through me. Well, if you want my opinion, I think you should help this poor girl! She sounds really desperate."

"But what if it's another lie? I don't want to deal with another one of those."  
_  
"_I dunno. The letter seems really sincere," she said, repeating Harry's own thoughts.

"Well, you know my position," Ginny said after a pause. She stood and smoothed out her green skirt. "Anyways, dinner's on the table. Will you join us?"

"Sure, I'll be there in a minute," he said distractedly. Ginny laughed again. She ruffled his already messy black hair and left the room.

A few minutes later, Harry left his study and walked into the dining room. Ginny was walking into the room, holding her wand out in front of her, levitating a big bowl of salad. Albus, James, and Lily, Harry and Ginny's children, were already seated at the table. James and Albus seemed to be greatly interested in something going on under the table, while Lily was fixing her fork and knife so that they were perfectly aligned with her plate.

"Hey, Dad!" James shouted.

"James, please don't yell in the house," Ginny said, setting the salad bowl on the table.

He ignored her. "Dad! Look what Al and I caught!" He proudly produced a large frog from under the table. Lily shrieked as it hopped out of James's hand and onto the table. "Oops," he muttered, and then flung himself over the table, unsuccessfully trying to catch the frog as it hopped around.

Ginny pointed her wand at the table, saying, "_Accio frog!" _The frog flew into her empty hand. She looked at her sons sternly. Harry stifled a laugh.

"Boys, this is the second time this week I have had to confiscate an animal from you. That's enough 'exploring' for you two," she said.

Throughout the mayhem, Harry had slid into his chair. He looked at his family. It was a wonderful family. Odd, yes, maybe even dysfunctional, but wonderful indeed. He looked at Lily, a spitting image of her mother, who was sticking her tongue out at James. He looked at Albus, who was looking down, silently chastising himself for his misbehavior. And James was trying not to laugh as he watched Ginny put the struggling frog back outside by magic.

Harry had always known how much he loved his children, but had never really thought about it before. He realized in this moment that he would do anything and everything for them. And if they were in any sort of danger, he would sacrifice his life for them at a moment's notice. Just like his mother had done for him when he was a baby.

After dinner that evening, he retreated to his study once more, reading through the letter again.

_3682 Rockworth Road_

He knew what he had to do. He couldn't miss it.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, so this isn't really my best work. I got the idea randomly one day and decided to try it out. I hope you liked it! Please review and be brutally honest. I love to hear any constructive criticism I can get. I'll upload the next chapter soon. :]


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **The amazing J.K. Rowling owns all original Harry Potter-related material.

* * *

Harry approached the old green house. He walked through the brown grass that made up the front yard, then up the crumbling cement stairs leading to the screened-in front porch. The screen door creaked loudly as he pulled it open. He took in a breath, and then knocked on the rusty blue door in front of him.

There was no answer. Did he have the wrong address? He looked at the metal plate nailed to the door. 3682. Yes, it was the correct place.

The letter hadn't mentioned a time to meet here, but he assumed any time would be fine. He knocked again, louder this time.

As Harry waited, his thoughts strayed.

This morning, Harry woke in his own bed, his safe, comfortable bed, with Ginny at his side. He smiled as she opened her eyes.

"Good morning," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"Morning, dear," she mumbled back.

They laughed softly together as they listened to James and Albus pretend-dueling in the other room with their toy wands they had received from their Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron for Christmas. Lily was probably  
sitting at the couch, watching them, giggling.

"We'd better get up," Ginny said, unmoving.

"I suppose we should," replied Harry, also remaining still.

Then there was a loud crashing noise from the direction of the living room. The three young voices were suddenly silent.

"Oh, dear," Ginny sighed and pulled herself out of bed.

Harry stood as well, stretching. He picked up his glasses off the table next to the bed and slid -them on his face. Then he picked up his wand and Summoned an outfit-a green sweater and a pair of black pants—from his closet. After dressing, he tiredly walked out of the bedroom.

"I don't care who started it, I want this mess cleaned up now," Ginny was saying sternly.

"Why can't you do it, Mum? You're the one with the wand!" James said.

"I didn't break the vase, now did I?"

Harry chuckled, pulling on his jacket.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" Lily asked.

"I... have some errands to run, darling," he said, meeting his wife's eye.

"What errands?" Lily pushed on.

"Dear, would you help me set the table for breakfast?" Ginny asked Lily, drawing her attention away from Harry. Harry shot a grateful smile at her.

"Sure, mummy." She turned back to her father. "Bye, daddy," she said.

Harry leaned down and hugged her tight. "I'll be back tonight, Lil." She smiled and rushed off to the kitchen.

Ginny came out then, and walked up to him. "Good luck, dear," she said, hugging him. They kissed for a few moments and he gave her a small wave just before turning on the spot, Disapparating.

Since Harry wasn't sure where exactly he was going, he didn't know if Disapparating to his destination would work. All the information he had was the lonely address. So he thought hard about the address as he travelled through space and time. Luckily, when he could see and breathe, he saw that he was on a long gravel road lined with old houses. There was a sign next to him that read "Rockhurst" in faded black letters. But there was one house standing just a few yards in front of him. It was enormous, towering over his head like his old friend Hagrid had when he was very young. He understood now why the letter had said he couldn't miss it.

Now he stood at the door, waiting for a reply. Finally, he heard footsteps.

"Who is it?" a female voice called from the other side of the door.

"Er, it's Harry Potter."

Slowly, the door opened. Standing before him was a girl, skinny and tall, wearing jeans and a blouse that looked too small for her. Her face was pale and she had light purple circles under her brown eyes. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail.

"Hello, Mr. Potter!" she said, her tired face brightening. "Please, come in!"

She opened the door wide, gesturing for him to walk inside first. He did so, and she closed the door behind herself as she entered the house after him.

On the outside of the house, it looked shabby and unclean. On the inside, however, it was entirely different. As Harry looked around, he saw he was standing in a large, cozy-looking room, where there was a red loveseat facing a fireplace with a roaring fire. The walls were painted a light blue, and the light from the beautiful chandelier that hung from the ceiling made the room bright and happy. There was a portrait hanging on the wall above the mantle, picturing the girl he had just met and a man and a woman, who Harry assumed to be her parents. The man and the woman in the picture smiled at him as he looked up, and the girl laid her head on her father's chest.

"Please, make yourself at home," the girl said. She retreated into another room and came back carrying a tray with two steaming cups of tea sitting upon it. After handing him one, she set the tray on the brown coffee table sitting in the center of the room. Harry awkwardly sat on the sofa while Amelia took a seat in an old wooden rocking chair opposit him.

"My name is Amelia," she said. "I see you got my letter."

"Yes," Harry said.

"Oh, I just knew you'd come! Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," he said, but what for, he didn't know. "Er... why exactly am I here?"

"Oh, I apologize; like I said in the letter, I didn't want to tell you too many details," she explained. "You see, I fear that I am in danger," she said matter-of-factly.

"Why?" Harry asked, his eyebrows crumpling together.

She sighed, her smile disappearing. "I'm not really sure," she said. "But there is someone who is after my family." She stared down into her cup.

Harry was somehow shocked by this. "Who?"

"His name is Malfoy," she replied.

Harry's mouth dropped open and his cup fell to the floor, shattering and splashing hot tea all over him. He didn't seem to notice.

Amelia looked up. "What's wro-" she began.

"Did you just say _Malfoy_?" Harry demanded.

"Yes, why? Do you know him?"

"Know him? I went to school with him! He was my sworn enemy!"

"Wait, you went to school with him? That doesn't make sense. He's only a couple years older than I am!" Amelia said, looking confused.

"What?"

"Yes, it's Griffin Malfoy. He is the grandson of ex-Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy."

Harry was stunned. This man-Griffin-must be Draco Malfoy's son. Draco Malfoy, another boy in his class while he was still attending Hogwarts, was the rudest, most prejudiced, self-centered person one could meet. At least, he came in a close second right after Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father. Their family felt they were superior since they were purebloods-everyone in their family was a witch or wizard.

That was odd - he had never heard of Malfoy having two sons, only one, Scorpio. But he didn't think it was very odd how it was a Malfoy doing such a horrible thing.

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter?" Amelia said, breaking his train of thought.

"I'm sorry. It's just such a surprise. Well, not really. This is the exact thing someone like Malfoy would do."

"Oh," she said, looking back into her tea again, as if it would have all the answers to everything there.

Harry stood, taking out his wand and flicked it towards the shattered tea cup muttering, "_Scourgify." _He watched the mess clean itself up and replaced his wand. Slowly, he walked over to the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"So, where are your parents, Amelia?"

She took a deep breath. Then she looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"They're gone. Malfoy-" she paused, trying to pull herself together. "Malfoy killed them."

There was no chance of Amelia holding herself together now. Tears began streaming down her face. She let out a quiet sob and tried to wipe her face with her sleeve.

Somehow, Harry did not feel awkward. He knew how to handle this. He bent down to her level, wiped away a tear with his finger, and said, "It's okay."

Then she began to really cry. He helped her up and led her to the sofa. She buried her face in her bent knees as he took her tea and set it down. He sat next to her, one arm wrapped around her hunched up shoulders as they shook. He listened to her quietly crying for a while, about a half an hour. But he didn't mind; he understood what it was like to lose family.

Finally, Amelia stuck her head up. Her eyes were red and puffy but she wasn't frowning. She looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed.

"It's okay," he said again. "I understand."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hi all! I really hope you liked the second chapter. With luck, I'll be able to post the third chapter sometime in the next week. Thanks for reading! Please, please, pretty please review and tell me what you honestly thought and how you think I could do better. :]


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling owns all original Harry Potter-related material.

* * *

"Dad!" Lily shouted as Harry walked in the front door. She was sitting at the living room table on the floor, drawing with the enchanted quill that Neville had given her. It changed color every time she moved it around, creating a messy rainbow on the paper.

"Hello, Lil," said her father with a small smile. It had been a long day.

Ginny walked in the room then. She looked relieved. "Oh, you're home."

"Yes," he said, approaching her and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"How was it?" she asked in a low voice.

"I'll tell you in private," he said tiredly.

They walked to their bedroom. He pulled off his jacket and threw it on the bed. Then he collapsed on it dramatically.

"Was it that bad?" his wife asked, shutting the door.

"No. But... you're going to be shocked." He told her everything that happened before Amelia's breakdown.

"_Malfoy?"_ Ginny cried after he was done. "Oh, why am I _not_ surprised?"

"Malfoy's _son_, dear."

"I know, but... it's just like a Malfoy to be behind something like this!" she said, outraged. Then she sighed. "Oh, that poor girl."

"I know."

"So what happened after that?"

Harry hesitated, and then continued with his story.

* * *

"So... where are we, exactly?" Harry asked Amelia, looking around the room.

"This is my great-grandparents' house. They left it in my parents' name when they died, thinking it would be a good place to live someday. The neighborhood isn't that great, but the house is amazing."

"I can tell," Harry said, impressed.

"Well, when Malfoy came to my house and-well, you know. He destroyed it, basically." She swallowed. "See, my dad grabbed me in time and Disapparated with me, bringing me here. He gave me a letter, kissed me on the forehead, and was gone. He went back home to try and help my mother. She was a Muggle. She couldn't defend herself.

"I was scared out of my mind. I didn't know what was going on but my father told me not to go back to the house until he told me it was safe. But he never came back." Amelia sniffed.

"The next day, I figured it would be safe, so I Floo'd back to my house." She nodded towards the fireplace, its flames still glowing bright.

"Only, when I got there, everything was just... demolished. Holes in the ceiling, burn marks on the walls, furniture toppled over..." her voice trailed off.

There was a silence. "The worst thing was that I didn't even get to say goodbye to my parents," she said. Harry was afraid she would start crying again, so he put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he said comfortingly.

"Thanks. I'm okay, I think. Anyways, I went around the house, finding anything I could that was still intact. I found a few things... my mum's jewelry and most of her clothes were okay; I don't think much of the fighting went upstairs. I also found a painting my dad made."

She pointed to the portrait above the mantle. The mother was running her fingers through Amelia's hair now, the father smiling sadly.

"Wow," Harry said. "I thought it was a photograph."

"Yes, he was a very talented artist. He did that by hand, no magic," Amelia told him proudly.

They both watched the painting, the people in it so realistic.

"I found other small things that were less important, but I took them all back here with me. I knew they were gone, and I couldn't just leave all those things there. Probably the best memory I have of them now is Bingley, our family owl." Harry thought of the grey owl that had delivered the letter to him yesterday.

"I went back to the house every day after that, still looking for things I could keep," she continued. "Maybe that wasn't my only purpose there. Maybe I just wanted to stay in that familiar place longer. It's lonely here, but at my house I felt happier. Like my parents could still come walking through the torn-down door.

"But one day while I was in the living room-I was picking up furniture and trying to clean up as much as I could-I heard a crack coming from outside. I figured someone had Apparated into the neighborhood. But it was a Muggle neighborhood, so I thought, what witch or wizard in their right mind would Apparate here like that?

So I looked outside. And he was standing there. Malfoy. Walking up to the house. I sprinted to the fireplace and just barely made it out of there before he broke in again." Harry gasped as Amelia shuddered.

They sat there in silence, Amelia still hugging her knees and Harry thinking this all over. He couldn't believe it. Why on Earth would someone want to kill an innocent family? Even if he _was_ a Malfoy. Unless... her family _wasn't_ innocent. No, he thought, they're probably a perfectly nice family. But still, he couldn't think of another reason.

"Didn't you say your father left you a letter?"

"Oh, yes. Would you like to read it?"

"Yes, if that's okay with you."

"Sure," she said. She stood up and walked to a tall bookshelf in the corner that Harry had not noticed before. She reached up to the top shelf, standing on her tip-toes, and pulled down a piece of folded up parchment.

She handed it to him. He unfolded it gingerly and saw a small, neat print that he recognized from Amelia's letter. It read:

_My dearest Amelia,_

_I am deeply sorry. I know that, if you are reading this letter, your mother and I are dead. But please remember that, no matter what, we love you. We always have and we always will._

_I wish I could be explaining this in person. But if I had, I feared something awful would happen. _

_You see, there are some people in this world that do not like our family. It is not just our family, but many families like ours. And lately, these people are becoming more and more open about their opinions once again. I apologize for trying to keep all that covered up from you and your mother. _

_Again, I am tremendously sorry. But you must remember this always: __**never be ashamed of who you are. **__Do not ever think you are a bad person, no matter what anyone tells you. You are beautiful, inside and out. Never forget it._

_With love,_

_Your father, Oliver Turner  
_

Harry looked up from the parchment and met Amelia's eye.

"Yeah, I don't get it, either," she said, sighing. "I've read it about a million times and I don't know what he's talking about. What's wrong with our family?"

Harry didn't answer the rhetorical question. He kept his eyes on the letter, reading through it again. _…these people are becoming more and more open about their opinions once again… _

* * *

"Wow," Ginny said. "Oh, the poor dear."

"Yeah," Harry said, still lying down. He put his hands over his eyes.

"What do you think it means?" she asked, sitting by him, leaning on one elbow.

"Search me."

"Do you think her father… did something? Something bad?" she asked tentatively.

"I don't know."

"Do you think—?"

"I don't know _what_ to think!" Harry said, looking at her. He immediately felt bad about snapping at Ginny, but he was stressed. He really didn't know what to think.

Ginny just frowned at him. "I'm sorry. I know you must have a lot on your mind, so I'll leave you with your thoughts." She leaned over, kissing him, and then stood up and left the room.

Harry just laid there for a while, thinking. Then he spontaneously bent over, opening the top drawer of his bedside table. His hands found the spine of an old book; pulling it out and flipping to the first page, he saw the picture of his parents, his mother holding the infant version of himself. They looked up at him, smiling. He smiled back, reminded somewhat of the portrait that now hung over the mantle at 3682 Rockhurst.

If only they were here. They would know what to do.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I uploaded this sooner than I thought I would have. Yay me! Haha. I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with this one, but I was really anxious to upload it. Well, I really hoped you like this chapter. Hopefully it cleared things up for some of you who thought the storyline was confusing. It'll get clearer, I hope. Thank you for the reviews-a special thanks to **Taya, Penseln, and Phnxfyr1. **Also a thank-you to my bud, Jessy (if you're reading this, I love you!).

Please review and tell me your thoughts about what I could do better or whatever you want. Be as brutally honest as possible! :]


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling owns all original Harry Potter material.

* * *

Harry sat in the passenger seat of the family's white mini-van. Ginny sat at his side at the wheel; James, Albus, and Lily sat together in the backseat. Ginny kept hollering at James to stop poking his sister while Albus stared excitedly out the window.

Harry didn't really like taking the car. He wasn't the best driver—his wife willingly took his place in the driver's seat. He didn't understand why his wife was a better driver; after all, they were both excellent fliers. But driving was a necessary precaution; it would look very odd to fly on broomsticks into a Muggle neighborhood. Besides, they had three children, who couldn't Apparate yet.

The family pulled into the driveway of the yellow home. The lawn was a perfect green and a bed of purple flowers sat right under the wide window on the front of the house. In the window stood a small red-haired girl who looked just as excited as Albus did. As she watched the white car stop and park, Rose Weasley beamed and ran to the front door, pushing it open.

"Hello Rose!" Ginny said, bending down to hug her niece as Rose ran up to them.

"Hi, Auntie Ginny!" Rose replied happily. She exchanged hugs with Harry and Lily, smiled and waved awkwardly at James, then took Albus's hand and rushed him inside. Harry grasped his wife's hand and walked her to the house as James and Lily ran to the backyard to find Hugo.

The Potters hadn't been to the Weasleys' in a long time. Mostly this was because the adults were all busy with work. Harry, the head of the Auror Department, had to do more and more desk work than actually working with people lately. With the Quidditch World Cup drawing near once more, Ginny, as a Quidditch correspondent, was busy with writing her articles about all the teams competing for the championship this year.

However, the Potter couple wasn't quite as busy as the Weasleys were. Hermione worked in the DRCMC, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Recently, there had been a strike among the goblins at Gringotts, and she was doing all she could to negotiate with other Ministry workers so the goblins could be satisfied. Ron worked with George at the joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, in Diagon Alley, and there had been a break-in last week, which caused his schedule to be rather hectic.

Usually, a visit to the Weasleys' would be exciting, especially after so long. But this particular get-together wasn't just casual and fun. Harry needed to speak to Ron and Hermione about the problem at hand.

Ginny and Harry were greeted at the door by Hermione. Harry was almost shocked to see Hermione's stomach, it was so huge. Hermione had already been pregnant the last time he saw her, but she had grown so much over the past few months. Ginny squealed with delight as she hugged Mrs. Weasley tenderly and put a hand on her stomach. Harry couldn't help but smile widely as he thought of having a new child in the family. Harry kissed Hermione's cheek and hugged her as Ginny headed into the house to find Ron.

"How have you been, Harry?" she asked, smiling at him.

"I've been better, to be honest," he replied.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione said, concerned.

"I'll explain later," Harry said. "How are you?"

"I'm… great. Harry, I really am great," she said, smiling. "I mean, things are a bit crazy right now, with work and the baby, but everything is just going so well." She pushed a stray lock of curly brown hair behind her ear. "I'm happy."

Harry smiled widely. Even with all the drama happening in his own life, he was still ecstatic to hear that one of his best friends was happy with her own life.

"I'm glad to hear it, 'Mione."

They were interrupted by a large black dog running into the room, barking happily; James, Lily, and Hugo were running after him. The three children were laughing and yelling at the dog to come back, that is, until they caught the stern gazes of Hermione and Harry.

"Moody, come here," Hermione said, now laughing at the silly dog, whose tongue was hanging out of his mouth. Moody bounded over to her, gladly accepting the pats on his head that she gave him.

Now addressing her son, Hermione said, "Hugo, why don't you show Lily and James to the bathroom to wash up; dinner's almost ready."

"We know where it is, Auntie 'Mione," James said.

"Oh, of course. It's just been so long…." Hermione said, looking at Harry as the children headed upstairs. She laughed again, taking Harry's arm. Together, they walked to the back of the house to find their spouses.

"That dinner was fantastic, dear," Hermione said to Ron as she stood up to begin clearing the table. Hugo, Lily, Rose, Albus, and James had all gone back outside to the backyard, Moody trailing close behind them. "You've never cooked like that before."

"Always the tone of surprise, dear," Ron replied, smiling warmly at his wife.

"I think all of the Weasleys inherited their mother's amazing cooking skills," Harry said, giving Ginny's knee a squeeze.

"Not that you don't have your own special qualities, love," Ginny said, leaning forward until her nose touched his. She winked quickly at him, and Harry smiled slowly, leaning in even closer to peck her lips. Ron made a weird half-smile, half-grimace face while Hermione giggled and made a sound of false disgust.

Harry laughed and pulled away. Being with his family almost made him forget the real reason he decided to visit.

Four tall wine glasses floated into the dining room from the kitchen, followed by a bottle of red wine. Harry watched as a glass settled down on the hard wood table and filled up with wine. He took his cup and took a sip.

"So, Harry," Hermione began. "Is there… something you wanted to talk about?"

Harry exchanged glances with Ginny, set his glass down, and looked across the table at the Weasleys. "I don't really know where to begin," he said gruffly.

Ron and Hermione waited, their eyes on Harry.

"You remember Draco Malfoy, don't you?" he asked, trying to get into the story.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You mean the rude, arrogant, self-absorbed little…" She looked up, trying to think of a word offending enough to describe Draco Malfoy.

"Ferret?" Ron finished for her, smirking.

"Yes, ferret," Hermione agreed, amused.

"No, never heard of him," Ron said sarcastically.

"Well, he had a son," Harry continued.

"Yeah, Scorpius, isn't it?" Ron said, crinkling his nose. "What kind of a name is that, anyway?" Hermione and Ginny laughed.

"He had another son. His name is Griffin."

"What? Wouldn't we have heard about him?" Hermione said.

"Probably not," Harry replied, staring into his glass. "He's much older than Scorpius, as far as I understand." He sighed, wondering how to go on.

Seeing that Harry was struggling, Ginny spoke up. "Dear, why don't you show them the letters?"

Harry stood and left the room. He went to the back door, pulling his jacket off one of the hooks on the wall. Rummaging through his pockets, searching for the pieces of parchment that were the letters, he listened to the conversation being held in the dining room during his absence.

"Harry's really stressed about this whole situation," Ginny said in a hushed tone.

"But what's the situation?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit impatient.

Harry's fingers felt the paper and he pulled the letters out of the pocket.

"This Griffin guy is a killer. And he is after some poor little girl's family," Ginny spilled.

Ron frowned; Hermione gasped.

"That's horrible! Why?" Hermione asked.

"We don't know," Harry said, returning to the dining room. He reached across the table and handed the two letters to Ron, who unfolded them and began to read.

"Griffin killed Amelia's parents," Ginny explained when she saw Ron's shocked expression as he read the second letter, the one written by Amelia's father.

"And… now he's after this girl? Er… Amelia?" Ron asked, handing the letters to Hermione.

"I think so," Harry replied. "That's sort of what I wanted your help with."

"What, with stopping Griffin?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Maybe, if we need to."

"This is all so sudden," Hermione said after finishing reading.

"I'm sorry about that," Harry said.

"But we will help if we need to, mate," Ron said quickly. Harry gave them a weak smile.

"I'm still confused," Hermione said. "I don't understand why Griffin would do this. It says in the letter from Amelia's father that Griffin doesn't like their family, but why?"

"All I know is that her father brought her to safety, gave her that letter, and then went back to save his wife. And then he and Mrs. Turner were killed."

"Why did he need to go back? Why didn't they just all Apparate out together?"

"Amelia's mother was a Muggle," Harry explained.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. The latter crumpled her eyebrows, bewildered.

"Harry, we are talking about a Malfoy. If Amelia is Muggle-born, then Griffin has the perfect reason to go killing off her family," Hermione said, baffled at how Harry and Ginny could have overlooked that.

Harry could have hit himself. He looked at Ginny with wide eyes. "How did we miss that?" he asked her.

Ron chuckled. "Blimey, Harry, you of all people should have picked up on that."

Hermione frowned at him and he quickly shut up.

"Well, we don't know for sure," Ginny said, looking somewhat doubtful.

After Voldemort was defeated almost twenty years ago, things had been a lot different in the wizarding world. All the Death Eaters that survived the Battle of Hogwarts were tracked down, arrested, and thrown in Azkaban, each of them being sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss and life in prison. Most of the witches and wizards who used to speak out against Muggles and Muggle-borns stopped their protests and watched in silence as the non-magic folk gained more and more rights. Presently, it was almost unheard of to be prejudiced against Muggles.

"Well, how do we know for sure, then?" Ron said.

The four adults looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

"We go to the source of the issue," Harry decided. "Mr. Draco Malfoy himself."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I FINALLY FINISHED THIS CHAPTER! After a long, agonizing spell of writer's block, chapter 4 is complete. If you're reading this, then... thank you for sticking with this story. I know it's not the best story out there but it means a lot to hear any feedback on it. So please REVIEW! Thank you to all who have reviewed before.

Super thanks to my amazing boyfriend, Zach. If you're reading this, thanks for taking the piece of crap I put onto paper and turning it into an actual story.

I love you guys! :]


End file.
